Curiosity Killed the Cat
by Laylinka
Summary: What happens when Dexter's babysitter Jamie gets curious and starts to peer into her boss's private world?
1. Chapter 1

Started: March 4, 2012

Finished: March 9, 2012

She greeted him like always when he got home from work. "Hey Dexter."

He rushed past her. "Hey Jamie, I'm stepping right back out again. I need you to stay. Late."

She bit her lip and caught up with him. "I don't think I can. I should do-"

He spun around. "I'll pay you double; he cut her off and sweetened the deal."

Her mouth hung open. He nodded his head once looking at her. "Ok," she said.

"Great," he said and smiled a little, readied himself and rushed out the door again.

Dexter is a very meticulous person, very orderly with a compulsion for control. He was also very involved in his work, often leaving again to work late. Generally, he was rather unsociable and as a friendly complement she was warm and easy going with him. He was a very guarded person and kept to himself. She found him intriguing and broken.

Jamie Batista, Angel's younger sister had become Harrison's babysitter a few months ago. She stayed late for him occasionally. She didn't mind. She had got attached to Harrison. The pay was really good and the place was quite comfortable. Semi lived in, museum quality and she enjoyed keeping it that way. When Harrison was napping she studied and did house work. She liked doing the laundry and putting away the fresh smelling clothes. She liked doing the dishes in an exact specific way that he wanted them done in even when he wasn't around.

She found it sad that Harrison had to grow up and never know his mother Rita because she had been murdered; But Dexter was a great father, when he was around.

…...…...

Jamie had laid Harrison down for a nap. She wandered around the house taking a break from studying. She turned the air condition up a notch. She leaned into the cool air, getting dangerously close to seeing the hidden box. She got a little closer. "Hey, what are you doing in there?" She whispered to the lonely and dubious box. She reached in. Holding the box, the temptation was almost too much not to open it. I shouldn't, she told herself; I should not, but... She opened the box. The sight of at least 3 dozen slides holding what looked like a drop of blood was astonishing. She put it back carefully and hastily snapped the cover back on. She heard a sharp crack. Shit, she swore and took the cover back off and examined it. Her eyes grew huge. "Shit, shit, shit." she said. One of the small tabs had broken off.

…...…...

A box of blood slides. How strange, she thought. It looks like he is keeping track of something, but what? Was it…human? It can't be. It has to be some kind of results from an experiment or samples from…what? She found herself becoming very, very curious. Anyone who has a box of hidden away blood slides might also have something else in the house. Something to link them together, to shed light on them, somewhere, hidden away. All I have to do is look. I can't, she scolded herself. I can't think that way. I have to put that out of my mind. Dexter's been nothing but great to me. I can't go snooping through his things. I won't do it. She put the peculiar box in the back of her mind respected his privacy enough not to ask about it but internally stressed about what she was going to say when he found the vent chipped.

…...…...

It was another typical day at the apartment. She went to the grocery store. His phone buzzed. He looked at it and it was Jamie. "Hey Jamie is there something wrong?" He asked because she doesn't normally call him at work.

"No, everything's fine. I was just calling to tell you that you don't have to get take out again. I'm making dinner."

He was quiet for a long time. "Dexter?" She questioned.

"Uh, ok. Sounds good."

"Great." She hung up. She had made dinner twice before but it still surprised him and he found that nice.

…...…...

One night after returning from a kill, after he sent Jamie home, he took the vent off the air conditioner and filed away the blood slide. When he replaced it, he noticed one corner didn't click into place. He examined it and gasped slightly. There was a piece missing. When did this happen? It wasn't like this last time. Did someone…touch? The thought was almost too much for him to bear and he swayed with unease and suspicion. He got his kit and dusted for prints.

Jamie's were easy to get because her were all over the place. It had to be Jamie. He could think of no one else aside from someone breaking and entering. Sweet, highly respectable Jamie, it couldn't be, but he had to be sure. If they are hers then Jamie and Daddy Dexter are going to sit down and have a serious chat.

And there they were, Jamie's prints all over the vent and the box. He was overwhelmed with the thought. She's seen inside. I trusted her with my apartment, with everything inside it that has any meaning, Harrison. I need to get a new babysitter.

But I can't. I can't fire her after what she's seen, it would be suspicious. She certainly doesn't know exactly what she saw. I can still talk to her. Maybe I should throw her a veiled threat after all, she was in the wrong. No, that would look bad, really bad. She saw the blood slides, that might make her uneasy, uneasy enough to tell her brother, Sergeant Batista.

An unbidden thought snaked inside of his lizard brain. It wound itself around with thoughts of how an unchecked version of him had killed Ellen Wolf. LeGuerta had obtained proof which had put her in his cross hairs. He'd have to kill an innocent to ensure that he didn't get caught. His name was Miguel. He took a deep breath. After all, that was the first rule of the "code" not to get caught.

The second one being, not to kill an innocent. I can't, at least…I don't want to.

Jamie is Angel's sister and he considered Angel a friend. He is a good man, Dexter thought. If I was human, I would want to be like him. Jamie's been an amazing help to me, with more then just Harrison, aside from her newly acquired penchant for snooping.

He dashed to the bedroom and dusted his storage chest for prints as well. If she's seen my tools, it's over. It's kind of hard to explain the knives, syringes and rolls of duct tape. Fear twisted at his insides. The cops could be coming here; they could be coming at any moment.

He rushed through the procedure with a pounding heart. The results where finally in. Only his. He was still safe. He still pondered questions; I should fire her, teach her a lesson, but that would look suspicious. What should I say to her? Should I even say anything?

…...…...

She was at Dexter's babysitting Harrison when the phone rang. It was Dexter. Feeling particularly playful she answered with, "Yes, Mr. Morgan," as if she was his secretary.

There was a pause. "Hey, I'm calling to remind you to pick up the dry cleaning at 1 this afternoon."

"Ok.

"And, also, I need reservations for 2 at The Pearl."

"Ohh a date?" Jamie smiled.

"No, just my sister. She's been talking about going there for weeks."

"Aww, so sweet. I'll get right on that Mr. Morgan."

He replied with, "Thanks," then hung up and furrowed his brows. Mr. Morgan? He questioned in his mind. That was a first. He wasn't sure what to think about it but he was pretty sure it was positive.

When she got off the phone she looked up The Pearl. It was a South Beach restaurant and champagne lounge. "Very nice," she whispered.


	2. Chapter 2

She felt guilty for chipping the vent and peeping into the box. It seemed that with every passing day it got worse. She couldn't understand quite why she felt this bad. It wasn't like she had stole anything thing or hurt anyone. She decided the next day after he got back from work, she'd come clean and hope he wouldn't fire her.

…...…...

"Hey Jamie," Dexter greeted as he came home.

"Hey Dexter. How was work?"

"Oh just, the usual, stressful cases. Nothing I can't handle."

"Harrison's napping," Jamie informed.

"That's good."

"Dex, I did something really terrible," her palms were sweaty and she twisted her hands nervously. "I invaded your privacy. I hope you won't be mad, at least not too mad." She avoided his eyes. "I'd understand if you'd want me to leave right now."

"Jamie," he stopped her gently. "Just tell me," he said even though he already knew what it was about.

"I saw something in the air conditioner, behind the vent. I'm really sorry. I knew it was wrong. It was none of my business, IS none of my business. I'm sorry."

She didn't mention the box specifically but she implied it and seemed relatively shaken by the contents. He let her go on with her apology gauging her sincerity. Noting how embarrassed she was and how she couldn't look him in the eye for more then a moment.

"I broke the air conditioner vent when I was in a hurry putting it back on. I've been feeling so terrible that I just had, had to tell you even if I loose this job." She was afraid of what he'd say so she just kept talking and planned to excuse herself. "I'm so sorry," she said again. "I understand if you want to fire me. I'll completely understand. I can go right now." She stepped past him but he grabbed her arm.

"Relax," he said carefully. "Hold on Jamie, we all get curious. I take it that you won't do it again."

She looked straight into his eyes. "Yes, no never." she answered flustered.

"Good," he smiled crookedly. "I'd hate to have to get a new sitter."

…...…...

Dexter was getting ready to go to the Pearl with Deb while Jamie kept an eye on Harrison.

He came out dressed in a steely grey suit with a blood red tie.

"Wow," she said.

"You think this is appropriate?" He asked

She rounded him. "You look sharp. Razor sharp…and fine." Her cheeks reddened. "Oh, sorry," she put her hand over her mouth out of embarrassment. "It looks good, really good," she said moderately. "You need to take pictures and post them on face book."

"I don't have facebook."

"Tell your sister to post them on face book."

"Ok." He looked at his watch. "I should go. I told Deb I'd pick her up at 7. He kissed Harrison good-bye.

"Have fun, Jamie called to him."

"Thanks."

…...

The phone rang at around 10. It was Dexter. He told her he was going to be back really late so she shouldn't worry and not to wait up.

He got home exhausted. Opening the door to his apartment he expected to see her asleep on the couch but she wasn't there and everything was quiet. His heart jumped up in his throat wondering where she had gone. He checked on Harrison, he was asleep. Then he went into his bedroom and found her in his bed. His eyes widened. He grabbed a change of clothes and changed out of his suit in the bathroom. When he came out intent on sleeping on the couch he found her there instead. He stood there for a few moments.

"I heard you come in," she said sleepily. "Good night."

"Good night," he replied.

…...…...

Another day at Dexter's demure dwelling.

He came rushing in the door. "Hey, I need you to do a really big favor for me. I have to leave again. I won't be home till late."

"I would but I can't, I have plans."

"Come on Jamie please, I need this."

"I don't know…I suppose I could reschedule."

"I'll make it up to you. Thanks, you really saved me."

He headed out the door thinking to himself. Too bad for Dustin Lehmen, no one will save him from me.

…...…...

He came in and found Jamie reading Harrison a bedtime story.

"Hey Jamie. Can you still stay for a few? I've got some things to do."

"Sure," she replied. She came out of the bedroom and sat on the couch with her school books. She had noticed him rub his neck and shoulders repeatedly, warily. She approached him and he closed the screen he was reading and brought up something else. "Dexter, can I try something?"

He looked at her inquisitively and a little scared. "Uh, maybe."

She started to rub his shoulders. He sat there tense but then gave over to how surprisingly relaxing it felt. "How is this?" She asked.

"That's…nice." After a while he added, "I should be paying you more."

She laughed. "I'm thinking about taking classes to become a license masseuse."

"You should, definitely."

"Have you been to a spa?"

"No. Lying naked on a table naked, helpless, not my thing."

"How was the Pearl?"

"It was pleasant. They have a lot of interesting food choices from different countries such as Asia, Africa, Europe and the Middle East."

"How did Deb like it?"

"We went there on live music night. She enjoyed herself, especially their champagne lounge. She got a little tipsy and wanted to dance with me."

"Did she? Jamie laughed. And did you?"

"Dexter doesn't dance," he said simply.

She playfully smacked him on the shoulder. "Ladies love a guy who can dance or ones that will at least try."

He moved his neck and shoulders around. "Wow." He rose to his feet. "Wow," he said again. She smiled. He rotated the chair, took her shoulders and pushed her to sit down. "Keep in mind I have no idea what I'm doing but I'll do my best. Besides, I owe you for earlier. Thanks for staying." He started to return the favor. She wore a skimpy dress for the hot Miami weather leaving his hands access to her bare skin. He started to work on her shoulders some albeit awkwardly.

Usually when he was behind someone touching them he either had them in a sleeper hold, was injecting them with M99 or had their neck wrapped tight in 50 pound test fishing wire. This was different. This was gentle and didn't cause unconsciousness.

His hands wondered around her neck and his mind wondered for only a moment, of what it would be like to choke her. Only he'd do it from the front while sitting in her lap so he could watch her eyes. Feel her hands push at him, and her fingers scratch at him. He'd do it slowly, teasing at unconsciousness and death, reviling in the control he craved and the kill he needed. Then suddenly as fast as it began, it passed and he was pulled back to the moment at hand. "Sorry," he said absentmindedly.

"For what?" Jamie asked.

"For my amateur work," he replied.

"No it feels good," she insisted. He went back to working on her shoulders, still less then graceful. He moved up to her neck and did something that felt amazing. Right next to her spine he did something with his thumbs that made her tingle all over. "Just like that," she said.

"Just like that?" He repeated. "Oh," he said realizing what she was talking about. "Like this?"

She gave a drawn out, "Yeah. What is that? What are you doing?"

"Uh, give me your arm," she did and he placed his fingers on her arm in the same way as on her neck. His hands returned to her neck, repeating the same movements.

"God, you're good with your hands," she complemented.

He smiled predatorily and thought to himself; I'm quite aware of that, although I'm much more experienced inflicting pain then pleasure. He replied with, "I like working with my hands."


	3. Chapter 3

She was vacuuming his bedroom and her eyes drifted to his half open closet. She felt a pull of curiosity come over her again. She shut the vacuum off and put her hand on the door and looked from side to side scanning the items. She fingered his shirts ever so slightly then dropped to her knees. A trunk. Interesting, she thought.

She put her hand on it. Don't do it, her mind told her. Don't touch anything. I'll put it right back, she reasoned. Remember what happened last time. I won't break anything this time. Don't you respect him at all? I just want to know. I want to understand. There could be something here that will make sense of the blood slides I found. No, you promised the man you wouldn't snoop around again. She remembered the look in his eyes when he pulled her close. She remembered how embarrassed she had been. Her curiosity was telling her; He's never going to find out.

She pulled it out and opened it. She rifled through it carefully so that she could put it back exactly as she saw it. Just stuff, regular, ordinary stuff. She heard a knocking noise at the bedroom door. Three small subtle bumps. She jumped feeling cold dread over take her as her head turned involuntarily to the direction of the noise. She sucked in a huge breath when she saw it was just Harrison. "Oh god. Oh thank god." She felt light headed. "It's just you Harrison." He smiled and left.

She closed the trunk and ran her hands over it. I had one of these when I was a teenager, she thought. She ran her hands along the front. She traced her finger along the nearly invisible line on the trunk, then along the sides. She pulled as if she were pulling out a drawer. Curious and curiouser, she thought. It wasn't just a crease in design, it was a secret compartment. Her eyes grew large at it cracked open and she gaped at the contents.

Holy Mary mother of…Jesus, she whispered as she made the ritual sign of the cross. Knives, syringes and duct tape. She stared at the contents much like one would stare at the detonation of an atom bomb. In shock, awe and horror. What is all this? Why is all this? She thought to herself. A wave of dizziness over took her. Get a grip, she told herself. Don't pass out. It's 3:00. He gets home in about 2 hours. I'm sure there's a good explanation for this. Just act normal.

He came home later and for a moment she forgot how to greet him. "Listen, he began. I really appreciate the extra work you do around here. Good help is hard to find."

"Sure," she replied shortly.

"Have a good night," he told her on her way out. She stopped and looked at him for a longer time then usual, like she was searching his face for something. Knowing she should quit after what she saw, knowing she should probably tell someone.

He asked gently, "What?"

"Um, er," she stumbled. "It's all my pleasure. No problem. Harrison's a great kid. Good night," she rambled awkwardly. She then turned and left.

…...…...…...

She was ok while she had been at his apartment. It wasn't until she got home that she became paranoid and edgy. Her body vibrated with apprehension and her hands became unsteady. Finding hidden syringes, duct tape and knives left her decidedly uneasy about her boss Dexter.

What if he finds out I've been snooping again? What if he finds out that I know? Know what exactly? What if I didn't put something back properly and he notices? God, I told him I wouldn't do it again. I can't tell him this time. Something tells me I need to just forget about it, no matter what. Just forget what I saw.

But she couldn't forget. She had stumbled up the kill tools of a monster, but she didn't want to believe it. She always believed he was kind and good and that she was safe with him.

The sensible part of her brain told her she shouldn't be at ease with him. It was difficult for her to wrap her mind around being at the receiving end of any of those things she found in the trunk. Difficult, but not impossible. What if he already knows? What if the next time I go over there…She shook that thought off. It simply made no sense. How could he know? She put everything back exactly as it was.

Call your brother. Confide in him, she thought to herself. If you fear for your very safety, call someone or at the very least stop going there. I can't, she argued with herself. It would look suspicious. He wouldn't believe me. He knows how attached I am to Harrison and how much I enjoy this job. Make up something, anything. I can't, he knows my schedule, my college plan, even my extra curricular activities, my friends. He knows more about me than I do about him, but that's my fault. I tell him everything.

A case from a few years ago came to mind. She wanted to ask him about the concept of a vigilante serial killer. A killer of killers called the Bay Harbor Butcher. She wanted to see how he'd react. She wanted to somehow gauge which side if the spectrum he was on. She couldn't see Dexter as a monster.

…...…...

The following afternoon she asked, "You remember the Bay Harbor Butcher case?"

He looked at her and paused, "Yeah."

"It was said that all the victims were killers. A vigilante killer who only kills other killers. What do you think about that?"

"What's prompting this?" He asked carefully.

"Curiosity," she simply said.

"Careful, curiosity killed the cat."

She tried not to look as if his remark fazed her. "How do you feel about it?" She pressed.

"Some people don't deserve to live."

She nodded. "I understand, with you loosing your wife to the Trinity killer. I'm sorry."

He looked quietly into the distance. "Me too," he said.

"I'm sure she knew you loved her."

"I wasn't there like I should've been, to protect her."

"Angel told me you made her life better. Helped her get over her physically abusive past with her ex husband." She was starting to feel sad. A strong sadness that she didn't understand. She wasn't an overly emotional person but this empathy was threatening to choke her.

He was quiet for a long time. "Yeah, um, Jamie can we not talk about this. It-"

"Of course," she interrupted and cleared her throat. "I'm sorry. I don't want to open old wounds." He nodded.

"So, what about you?" He asked steering the conversation back to the previous subject. "How you do you feel about a killer who stalks the night abducting and chopping up other killers?" His gaze was pointed.

She cleared her throat again. "I don't think it's right. I don't think it should have to be that way," she began weakly. "But bribing judges goes on all the time. You have corrupt lawyers, circumstantial evidence, technicalities and people living in fear of others who…seemingly…can't be touched." She met his dark gaze. "When you think about it, the guy risks life and limb every time he seeks out one of those monsters."

"You say it like he's still alive, he's dead, you know." he replied coolly. "Burnt to a crisp due to an unfortunate event at a cabin in the everglades."

"It boggles the mind really," she went on. "How many of those dangerous people he dispatched on his own like, some kind of…super hero."

You say that now, Dexter thought. He gave her a small smile. "What about all the neatly wrapped body parts? Isn't that the work of a demented psychopath?"

She squirmed as to how to answer that. She thought of how he would fit in with all that. She was leaning, needing to lean toward him being a vigilante but his valid question brought shivers down upon her. Could he just be another psycho? She knew she should say yes, yet she felt like saying no but she knew that response would sound ludicrous. "I um," she became visibly tense. "That's unsettling," she said softly.

"To say the least," he replied. "You should go. It's late."

"Ok, I'll get my things." On her way out she turned to him and said, "You're a great father but you should really-" she stopped herself.

"What? I should really what?" he asked gently.

"Be…there…more often." He nodded shortly, having nothing to say in his defense.

It's your addiction or your son." She opened the door to leave and he pushed it closed with his hand.

"Wait? What? What do you mean?" he asked confused and slightly paranoid.

She froze paranoid herself. "You're a workaholic," she said before facing him. "You're not alone, you have Harrison to come home to."

"Of course," he said still at a loss for words.

"Good night," she said.

"Good night."


	4. Chapter 4

Jamie wanted to ask Batista about a past case. Currently she couldn't find time to meet with him apart from her classes, studying and being Harrison's nanny and practically Dexter's personal assistant. She decided to take Harrison to visit Dexter and hope to talk to her brother if he was around.

"Hey Dexter."

"Hey Jamie," he greeted, clearly happy to see them both.

"I was taking him for a walk and he wanted to come see you I hope that's ok."

"That's fine."

"I'll be back in a few," she said and Dexter nodded. Jamie went to look for her brother. She made small talk and eventually worked up to what she really wanted to ask. "You were here during the Bay Harbor Butcher investigation, right?" He nodded. "What kind of evidence did they find?"

"A wallet full of knives and a box of blood slides. Why?" She swayed. "Are you ok sis?"

"Mmhmm," she said. She started to walk away not really hearing him. She got into the elevator. It's him. He's the vigilante. Dexter is the vigilante killer and he faked his own death. She had to go somewhere and get a grip, away from people. She concentrated on her breathing. A wave of tiredness hit her like a train and dropped to the floor.

"Hey! I need some help over here!"

"An officer came rushing in. Batista! Batista it's your sister, she's unconscious." Deb, Masuka, Dex, Harrison and LeGuerta followed.

Angel and Dexter bent down over Jamie. "She was found passed out in the elevator. The paramedics should be here shortly," another officer informed them.

"Jamie, Jamie!" Batista spoke to her in Spanish.

Dex checked the pulse in her neck. "Her pulse is strong," he said.

"Jamie, its Angel." He tapped her face. "Wake up."

Too bad I don't have any smelling salt, Dexter thought to himself.

She opened her eyes, not fully awake. She saw 2 faces near her. She looked from Angel to Dexter and gave him the briefest look of shock and awe until she pulled her eyes away from his.

"Hey Jamie," said Angel. "It's alright." He helped her sit up. She gripped his for arm with both her hands unusually tight. "Are you ok? Are you still feeling faint?" Angel asked.

"Uh no…yeah." She glanced at Dexter and he was stilling looking at her. She shivered.

"Can some one get her a glass of water?" He asked then turned to her, "the paramedics should be here soon."

"I don't want to see a doctor." Jamie stood up.

"You're going to see a doctor." Her brother insisted.

"No, I'm fine!" She said louder then necessary.

"You said you were still feeling faint."

Jamie walked away. "I'm good Angel just, butt…out." Dexter flashed him a face of sympathy.

Dexter approached Jamie. "You're sure you're ok?"

His voice sent a shiver up her spine at the reality of whom she may very well be talking to. Before she made eye contact she tried to get that look of wonder and trepidation off her face.

"Yeah, uh, I don't know."

"That doesn't sound good. I'll take Harrison for the rest of the day. You can go home."

"Are you sure?" She asked.

"Debs," Dexter called. "Can I take Harrison for the rest of the day?"

"Sure," she replied.

He looked at her and raised his brows. "You need a ride. I need to grab a few things from my office first."

"I think I can make it back to your apartment."

"It wasn't a question," he said as he left hastily.

The car ride was quiet and awkward for her. She either fidgeted more then normal or sat too still for too long. At least that's what it seemed like to her. His voice broke the silence. "Do you have any idea what might've been the reason you passed out?"

She kept her eyes down and in her lap. She paused before answering, "No, I-I really don't." He was an expert on being able to tell if a person was lying and Jamie most definitely was and he wondered why.

"Jamie," he said in a tone of voice that made her look at him. "You're looking kind of pale. Maybe you should see a doctor."

She looked away. "Not you too."

He touched her arm, she stopped breathing. "It's not just you I'm looking out for, you watch Harrison."

She let a breath out. "You're right. Thanks for your concern but I'm fine, I promise."

He parked the car. "Promise to see a doctor. It will give Angel some piece of mind and me too."

"Fine," she gave in.

"Good."

"Thanks for the lift."

"No Problem."

…...…...

For the past 24 hours she had let who he is sink into her mind. The police said that the case was solved, that they found out who did it. The guy who did it was, dead but he wasn't dead. She came to the conclusion that it wasn't him that she was afraid of. He was after all the killer of killers not of babysitters. However, she was afraid of the knowledge. Knowledge and a secret that she had doubts that he would trust anyone with, but he had to trust her, right?

She was studying at Dexter's waiting for 5 o'clock to roll around. Meeting her friends later was practically all she could think of. They were going to go the 7 Seas karaoke bar in Miami. With her busy schedule and with her friends equally busy schedules she was glad they could all find time to hang out. She couldn't wait to go home, get herself all dolled up and go out.

He came in in his occasional rush and she braced herself for his probable question.

I'm going to be leaving again shortly. I have some important stuff to do.

She held her book bag to her chest and approached him. "I really can't stay tonight. I'm meeting friends at the 7 Seas. It's karaoke night." He stood before her opening his mouth but words didn't come out. He looked down and sighed. She watched him as if waiting for permission. Then her eyes drifted to his hands, then to his eyes and she thought of what she'd be keeping him from doing if she didn't look after Harrison. He stood like a twisted super hero before her. Looking at him now, she found him fascinating, so fascinating that she couldn't believe what she was about to say.

"I-" he began.

"Dexter," she interrupted, "if you really need me," she swallowed. "I'll cancel."

He thought a moment. It would be very inappropriate not to mention not nice of me to keep asking her to cancel her plans on my account. I would rather her be happy then unhappy with me. "No, he began; you should go, go with your friends."

"You're not mad?"

He placed his hands on her elbows and said, "I ask too much, I know I ask too much of you. I know I'm not your only commitment." She was touched, perhaps more touched then she should've been. She wanted to throw her arms around his shoulders and give him a hug but she powerfully restrained.

"Thanks," she said though wanting to say more.

He walked her to the door. "Go, have fun…karaoke-ing," he finished clumsily.


	5. Chapter 5

The following day he got home from work. He thanked Jamie and sent her on her way.

He went about his usual afternoon making dinner, taking care of Harrison and stalking killer's profiles on his computer. He got an irritating feeling in the back of his mind to check something. It was a paranoid feeling that something was off or missing. His gut told him to dust his trunk again. He wasn't really concerned but his gut was usually right. He took prints off his trunk and followed procedure with an increasingly sick feeling. He found them to be hers.

Where is Jamie right now? He asked himself. He looked at his watch. She should get out of class in 45 minutes. Perfect. He packed Harrison up and headed out the door. I need to fix this, he thought to himself, right now.

He knocked hastily on Deb's door. When she opened the door she greeted, "Oh he-"

"DebcanyouwatchHarrison?IpromiseI'llmakeituptoyouG ottagothankyoubye," he said in one breath.

"Wha? Where's the fucking babysitter? Hey!" She tried to call after him, and then sighed. "Fucker."

…...…...

He knew her car and stalked the parking lot. People came and went but the cars kept getting fewer and fewer. It was as if some unseen force was smiling upon him when he saw how few cars were in the lot and how she just happened to be one of the last ones to come out.

He crept up, slid the needle into her neck and she collapsed in his arms.

…...

He drove to an abandon house in a bad part town, so if someone were to hear screams no one would think anything of it. He set up a kill room to carry out his ritual.

He watched her. It was Jamie, his babysitter, Batista's sister and innocent, according to the code. He had wrapped her up just like all the others. He would never have shown any of this at all if she had not already looked for it, he lamented.

She woke, and saw Dexter sanding over her. She looked at him confused. "Dexter," she said and tried to move but couldn't. "Dexter," she said again. What is this? Why is this?"

"This," he held is hands out, "is the culmination of my nightly activities," he said in a low even tone. "The why is because of your own mistakes. Your repeated intrusions into my private world. I thought I'd show you the rest."

She realized she was naked under the plastic wrap. Her hands started to tremble and her voice cracked. "Ok, ok please stop." He only watched. "How did I get here?"

He gestured to his neck as if injecting himself. "M99, an animal tranquilizer."

"You're the killer of killers."

"I am."

"I'm not a killer."

"No, but you uncovered my secret. My freedom, my life, now hangs in the balance."

She realized then that he meant to kill her. "I love you and Harrison! I would never turn you in. I would never do that! Please, stop."

He tried to put her in her place, something about love demanding a certain amount of respect. But he realized all humans make mistakes. He let it go the first time. He'd even let it go a second, if it wasn't for the grave incrementing subject matter. "I warned you," he simply said.

Her whole body started to shiver and she struggled to keep her thoughts straight. "We talked about this, remember? Let me go."

"First," he said ignoring her. "I cover the room in plastic so I don't leave any DNA evidence behind.

"I told you I understood." Tears fell from her eyes. "Let me go."

He stood directly behind her. "I wait for them to wake."

"You're like a twisted super hero."

"Slice their cheek with a scalpel," he stated imitating the motion. "Take a sample of their blood, hence the blood slides."

"Dexter, I'm not going to tell anybody. No body ever I swear. I swear, just stop, please." She started to cry.

"Have a talk with them on why they're here."

"Listen to me," she beseeched.

"Then, depending on my mood I either end them with a knife through the heart, or a bone saw across their neck," he said standing beside her again.

"No, Please. No. You don't have to do this. My god I would never turn you in. Please Dexter, I swear to you.

He put a hand over her mouth. "Stop. Begging. I don't want to do this, but as the years have proven over and over again, I'm not allowed to have friends. No one survives my secret." He took his hand off her mouth.

She was afraid to speak but still wanting to delay and stop her death. She said something that she never thought she'd say to his face.

"I find you fascinating."

"I am not fascinating. I am immensely sick." He held his hands up dramatically. "Can't you tell? A normal vigilante wouldn't need a ritual, take trophies or cut their victims up into little pieces." He crossed both of his hands to his chest. "I. Am. A serial killer." He turned his back to her and eyed his knives. "A monster."

"You're not a monster."

Taking a knife he turned swiftly and pointed it at her. "I am!" He said forcefully. "You think if I wasn't that I'd have you wrapped in plastic ready to do to you what I've done to all the others?"

"You're scared. You're just scared."

He calmed himself and put the knife down.

He knelt down, his face inches from hers.

"All I've been doing is proving you can depend on me," she said softly. "All those times you needed me to stay late. I help you with more then just Harrison, and you know it. I enjoy it. Let me, please, let me. Please trust me."

He opened his mouth but no words came out. If he had a heart, it'd be breaking right now. He readied the syringe and took the cap off, keeping it out of view. He brushed the side of her face gently. "I do trust you Jamie;" he lied, to put her at ease so she wouldn't see it coming when he slipped the needle into her neck. "It's ok. It's alright," he whispered even after he knew she was out.

He lowered the power saw beginning at the neck as usual. Only inches from touching her skin he stopped.

What are you doing Dex? Harry's voice came to him. She's a cop's sister; the case will never be closed.

She's a loose end that needs to be tied off.

"She's close to you, the police will ask questions.

"So? I'll have answers."

"Do you have an alibi?"

"I'll figure one out."

"Not every one out there would think that what you're doing it so wrong."

"I'm a monster."

"You channel your urges for good. Jamie respects you, understands you and even admires you."

"Respects me? She rifled through my private things."

That's not the point. The point it she knows you, behind the mask."

"Are you saying I should trust her?"

"You're good at seeing inside people, their character. What does your gut tell you?"

"It's not about my gut it's about the principal. The first rule is not to get caught."

"There's more to it then that. You didn't lie to her Dex. You trust, you really do trust her."

Thankfully, it was a weekend so neither one of them had to wake up early.

An hours or so later, she woke up on his couch wearing no more then one of his long shirts. While he had her on the table her clothes had been cut off for easy removal.

He fell asleep on the living room floor after they had chatted for hours into the night.

END


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